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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117926">There's Something Wrong With The Village</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinnoid/pseuds/Quinnoid'>Quinnoid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Again can be shippy or platonic so tagged as both, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cel Gets a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Not by Zolf, Other, Very subtly implied misgendering, leans more towards shippy tho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:49:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinnoid/pseuds/Quinnoid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At this point, Zolf is just a vehicle for me to hug Cel and vice versa.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom &amp; Zolf Smith, Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom/Zolf Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>There's Something Wrong With The Village</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started off very much as a ventfic that was never going to see the light of day, and then it got rather fluffy instead.</p><p>Title from The Village by Wrabel. That song made me cry the first time I heard it on the radio.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cel stormed in, trembling and eyes ablaze with a fury that promised hell for anyone who got in their way. Zolf watched as, without even glancing over, they threw their coat on the hook, kicked out of their shoes, and strode past the kitchen. A moment later, he heard the bedroom door quietly click shut. He gave them a few minutes to cool off while he finished prepping dinner, but when they didn’t come back out, he decided to go check on them. After making sure nothing was about to boil over, Zolf padded down the hall and knocked on the door. Silence answered him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a long, heavy pause. “I’m fine Zolf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” He said. There really wasn’t anything to say when he didn’t know what had bothered them so much. And clearly, they had no intention of talking about it. “Dinner’s just about ready. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not-” They sighed, loudly. “Okay, fine, yep. I’ll be out.. Soon. Just, give me a minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He hesitated by the door before going back to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, Cel came down the hall in one of Zolf’s old hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. They were still angry, but for the most part, they just looked defeated and sad. He held out their plate, which they took with a quiet thanks, and grabbed his own. Before they could sit down at the table, he led them over to the living room, where he’d started up Netflix.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Z.” They mumbled. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Course. You’re good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner was unnaturally quiet. Cel leaned into him, head practically laying on his shoulder while they ate and watched. There was no semi-constant rambling about the best and worst parts of the movie, no questions about his day, no inhaling their food so fast they nearly choked just so they could keep talking. Zolf didn’t mind the quiet, but it was odd. The house felt empty, despite them being right beside him. As the movie continued, they ended up laying their head in his lap, and slowly, as he worked his fingers through their hair, Cel relaxed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was nearly asleep himself when they suddenly sat up and hugged him. Instinctively, he hugged back. Something hot dripped down on his neck, and with a start, he realized they were crying. “Cel. Hey, what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s stupid.” They whispered. “I just.. Sometimes people don’t show their true colors until you thought you really knew them. And then you’re like, oh wait, who are you? Why? What’s going on? And then it’s just sadness and anger and.. I’m just tired.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And sometimes.. I don’t wish that I’m not me, but sometimes.. I wish I.. I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” He pulled at them gently until they slid into his lap and nestled their head in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry I’m not.. I don’t know what to say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. This is uhm, this is good. What I needed so, thank you.” Cel yawned. Zolf nodded and shifted so he could lean into the corner of the couch. It was warm and comfortable, and as they started to snore softly, Zolf dropped off as well. Just before he fell asleep, he kissed the top of their head and made a silent promise. He couldn’t take away what had happened, but he could be there for them. He would be. No matter what.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really appreciate how kind the majority of this fandom is. This is a lovely little corner of the internet, and I'm quite glad I found it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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